


Substitute

by yeaka



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the full moon, the wolf makes Isaac earn his keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Substitute

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you so much to emeralddawn for betaing! Warning, this is not my fandom but written for friends.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Teen Wolf or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It wasn’t his idea, really. Totally not his fault. It was the full moon. Or at least, that’s what started it, put the idea in his head—made him _hungry_ for something he no longer has. He searched out for his anchor and found...

There was a smell in the air, something that’s only gotten thicker. Now he’s purposely sucking it in with every breath: raw _human_. Rent, the wolf had growled. Something like that. When he comes back down from this high and wakes up tomorrow, he’s probably going to feel like a monster.

For now he just feels _good_. And in his defense, Isaac gave in damn easy. Didn’t even protest, crawled right over to Scott—some alpha nonsense, obeying his master—knelt between Scott’s legs and opened right up. Scott’s sitting on his bed, knees over the edge, Isaac leaning between them. Both still dressed. He does it so easily that Scott can’t help but wonder—sick, he knows, but he’s not in his right mind right now, feral and fuzzed and fucking _hungry_ —maybe this is how Isaac paid rent at the last place. Derek, or his dad. Sick. Scott makes a growling noise in the back of his throat: sick and hot. Isn’t that what betas are for, after all? Pleasing alphas?

Isaac’s tongue laves along the underside of Scott’s cock, and Scott grits his sharp teeth. One of his clawed hands grabs at Isaac’s hair, slips through the curls. Holds on, holds Isaac in, even though Isaac clearly isn’t going anywhere. His lashes are down against his cheeks. His pink lips are stretched wide, moist with spit and the precum Scott wiped on them. Scott should feel like an asshole. He doesn’t.

It’s not gay, he tells himself. Barely even thinks about it. It’s just sex, not even personal. When Scott closes his eyes, he doesn’t even have to see Isaac’s face; he can picture anyone. Allison, Lydia, Stiles—shit, not that one—but it doesn’t matter. This is a private, special, werewolf thing. Yeah. How a pack functions. A beta paying back his alpha for protection and shelter and sanctity. Scott bucks his hips forward and hisses under his breath, “Sorry.”

He opens his eyes, but Isaac’s mouth is too full of cock to respond. His eyes open halfway, pupils dilated, and he looks up through his long lashes at Scott. His eyes are still dark-rimmed (years of being in the cellar?) and sometimes the irises flicker gold in the moonlight. Isaac’s not fully transformed like Scott is—good—he’s _prettier this way._

He bobs up and down and knits his brow in concentration, closing his eyes again and _sucking_ hard. Scott lets his head loll back and groans. He has to fight the urge to howl; the last thing he needs is his mother bursting in. But fuck, does Isaac have a good mouth. Hot, tight, wet, careful, dulled teeth and a constricting throat. He hollows his cheeks and buries his nose in Scott’s pubic hair one second, slipping back to the head the next. His frail, human hands steady himself on Scott’s thighs. Something in Scott is getting close, and he thinks Isaac can feel it. Isaac starts to bob harder, faster, while Scott moans in appreciation. He pets Isaac’s hair and growls thickly, “Good boy...”

Then he’s tightening, and he scrunches his nose and grits his teeth to not _howl_. He shoves Isaac back by the forehead and grabs his own cock, holding it out while his balls release; his cum shoots out and splatters all over Isaac’s pretty face. Isaac’s eyes close, mouth opening in surprise, and he splutters as little gobs drape over his nose and cling to his tongue. Scott keeps pumping himself out, panting.

When he finishes, he lets go, staring. He did that on instinct: marked his pack. Now Isaac will smell like him. Other werewolves will know not to fuck him ...Good. Scott tells himself it makes some semblance of sense.

Scott falls back onto the bed, stealing back breath. It comes easier than it would to human lungs. His cock twitches back to hardness just as strangely easily.

Isaac climbs unsteadily to his feet and looks down at Scott, while Scott looks back up at him.

Isaac climbs onto the bed, legs straddling Scott’s waist, just before Scott’s still-exposed, jutting cock. Licking his lips, Isaac puts his hands on his belt, ready. He mumbles, “Rent?”

Scott agrees, foggy-headed with the moon and the dwindling orgasm, “Rent.”

So Isaac slips his belt loose.


End file.
